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Chapter 23
Gunner
I race home wanting to see my girl, but as soon as I get to the gate, Shane furrows his brows at me, stopping me at the gate, and I raise a brow at him behind my sunglasses.
"Is Leah following behind you?"
My body stiffens. "What the fuck are you talking about, Shane?"
His eyes widen. "Fuck. Gunner, I'm sorry; she told me she was coming to see you half an hour ago; she even called you by your given name; her eyes showed her sincerity; fuck Gunner."
A lump forms in my throat. Fuck no, "half an hour ago?"
He nods, and I slowly close my eyes, dropping my head. She fucking saw Silver and ran, fucks sake.
I give Shane a nod before I quickly spin around in the gateway of the clubhouse, roaring after my girl. She took it the wrong fucking way, and yeah, I don't really blame her, but she should have just fucking confronted us then and there instead of running. She's probably an hour ahead of me going back to her flat that I fucking forgot to end the lease on, and I would bet my left nut she's packing to do a runner.
Fuck me, this woman is going to be the death of me.
Oh well, at least she'll have all her valuables ready to take back home to our fucking home.
Pain in the ass, beautiful fucking woman
I cut the journey time in half, breaking a dozen fucking speeding laws before I pulled up next to the crappy rust bucket she refuses to scrape, and now I know why. She still has one fucking foot out the door.
Sighing, I shake my head before going over to her building as some woman is coming out of it, so I quickly grab the door before it locks itself, and I slam the thing shut, knowing that with how fucking crappy the walls are, she'll hear me coming. I stomp my biker boots up the narrow fucking stairs and come to a stop outside her creamy door.
I bang on it before shouting,
"LEAH, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR NOW BEFORE I BOOT IT DOWN!"
My patience has run thin with this woman.
I don't give her a chance to try and come to terms with the fact that I'm here instead of fucking a woman I didn't fucking want. I lift my foot and boot the door. It swings open, banging against the wall, before hanging off the hinges. My anger flowed through my fucking veins at the fact that she ran instead of confronting me like the old Leah would have fucking done. I take a good look at her; she's in a jumper dress, her hair is down, and her face is make-up-free, while her tears coat her cheeks, and I shake my head at her. Fucking woman, that is it. I'm done holding back. I grab the door, managing to just shut it with half of the hinges broken before I turn and face her, but quickly duck as a cup comes flying my way.
There's the fucking anger she should have confronted me with.
The cup smashes against the now sort of closed-door before another one comes my way.
Shit.
I just about duck again before I scowl at her.
"You fucking done yet?"
That might have been the wrong thing to say because a plate is next.
Fuck, where is she getting the shit from? She's in her living area, not her kitchen.
Damn, another plate comes my way.
"LEAH ENOUGH!"
Her eyes narrow, anger vibrating from her, and fuck me, does my dick like it.
She points at me.
“You lying, cheating son of a…”
